


Burning Up The Quarter Mile

by claryharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Greasers, American Liam Payne, American Louis Tomlinson, American Niall Horan, American Zayn Malik, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beaches, Blushing, Bottom Harry, Boys In Love, Carnival, Diners, F/M, Fluff, Grease AU, Happy Ending, Harry Styles - Freeform, How Do I Tag, I can't believe I'm writing this, Innocent Harry, Insecure Harry, Insecure Louis, Inspired by Grease, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Louis, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Liam Payne - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Mild Smut, Naive Harry Styles, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Niall Horan - Freeform, Popular Louis, Racing, Rydell High School (Grease), Sad Harry, School Dances, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Swearing, Teenage Dorks, Top Louis, Walks On The Beach, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Zayn Malik - Freeform, because like, drive-in movies, harry is sandy, i can't tag, larry au, like a lot of blushing, louis is danny, side zayn and danielle???, summer nights ha, zayn is kenickie and dani is rizzo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:05:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryharry/pseuds/claryharry
Summary: While spending his summer vacation in Malibu, Harry meets Louis and a typical summer romance ensues. At the end of the summer, they part ways--Harry going back to England and Louis remaining in California.However, Harry’s family’s plans change. He stays in California and enrolls at the same high school as Louis--unbeknownst to both of them. It’s not long after school starts that Harry becomes the joke of the senior class for his naïveté and inexperience.When Harry runs into Louis, he finds that this Louis isn’t the same Louis he met at the beach. This Louis is cocky and clearly has a reputation to maintain that can’t be tainted by Harry.Through laughter, tears, shenanigans, and a car race, Louis discovers that popularity isn’t more important than love and sometimes, the greatest things in life are right in front of you.or; the modern day grease au where louis just wants to be loved and harry wants to be the one to love him.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i haven’t written anything in so long, so please forgive me if this is absolutely terrible. it’s looking like it’s going to be 5 parts long not including the prologue, so yeehaw. come find me on twitter @ftdtonvinyl if you want! also remember comments make a writer’s day, even if it’s just to tell me how terrible it is. 
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own “grease” or any of these people. all of the events are fictional and never occurred. this is also only loosely based off of grease, so there will be obvious changes and differences. 
> 
> special thanks to bella and cass for putting up with me!

_"I never came to the beach or stood by the ocean,_

_I never sat by the shore under the sun with my feet in the sand,_

_but you brought me here and I'm happy that you did,_

_'cause now I'm as free as birds catching the wind" - Miley Cyrus, 'Malibu' (2017)_

 

 

**Track: Malibu // Miley Cyrus**

Cool, wet sand squished between Harry’s toes as he walked along the edge of the water, letting the foam from the recently broken waves wash over his feet. He reached up to wipe sweat from his brow, the California sun refusing to change her ways for the boy from England. But Harry didn’t mind the raw red of his skin or the sweat pouring down his back because there was a cute boy holding his hand and a salty breeze blowing through his hair.

“I can’t believe this is my last day here,” Harry said suddenly, looking to the sun-kissed boy holding his hand.

The sun-kissed boy was Louis and Harry met him only two days after arriving in Malibu for the summer. He’d been standing in the drink aisle of a little corner store in swim trunks, an old Queen t-shirt, and flip flops, trying to decide on what color Powerade he wanted before heading to the beach when Louis appeared next to him.

“I’d go for the blue,” Louis had said, startling Harry.

Harry turned, taking Louis in. There was no denying that he was gorgeous, with caramel skin, tousled brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and crystal blue eyes. Harry felt himself start to blush. He blamed it on the heat.

“I like the blue, but I haven’t had pink in a while,” Harry replied with a quirk of his lips. “This is a _really_ tough decision.”

Louis smiled. “I like your accent.”

Harry couldn’t blame his blush on the heat this time. He looked down at the floor, toeing at it with the tip of his sandal. “Thanks,” he said quietly, not accustomed to compliments from pretty boys.

“So, pink or blue?” Louis asked.

Harry shrugged, blush still high on his cheeks. “I can’t decide.”

There was a mischievous glint in Louis’s eye when he spoke next. “Tell you what, Curly. I’ll get the blue, you get the pink, and we’ll share." 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Well, I-I was heading down to the beach,” he stuttered out. His blush was never going to go away now.

“I’ve got nothing to do. I’ll join you,” Louis said and reached into the cooler to grab one blue drink and one pink. When he turned back to face Harry, his eyebrows were raised. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

Harry’d never met anyone so forward in his life.

“It’s okay with me,” Harry smiled.

“Great,” Louis replied and started toward the front of the store, Harry following close behind. He couldn’t help but glance down, noticing that Louis was quite blessed with his backside.

Harry loved California.

The summer flew by after that in a whirlwind of laughter, dates, sunburns, and cotton-candy flavored sticky-sweet kisses. Now, Harry was taking one final walk along the water with Louis, for once dreading the pink and purple hues of the Malibu sunset.

“I can’t believe it’s your last day either. I’ve had so much fun this summer,” Louis said and stopped short causing Harry to jerk to a halt next to him.

Seagulls flew over head, one swooping down to snatch dinner from the water. Louis turned Harry to face him, brushing Harry’s shoulder-length brown curls back and rubbing a thumb across his cheek. The sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore was the perfect soundtrack to a perfect moment.

“I like who I am with you,” Louis added and rose to his toes to press a salty kiss against Harry’s chapped lips.

“I wish I could stay right here forever. I don’t want to go home,” Harry breathed and let Louis pull him in for another kiss, this one deeper than the last.

“Promise you’ll tell your grandkids about the stunning boy from California who gave you the most magical summer of your life and changed you forever?” Louis asked cheekily and wiggled his eyebrows.

Harry laughed, throwing his head back and crinkling his eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again someday,” Louis said as they resumed walking.

Harry tried to hide his frown. They’d agreed early on that this was going to be a summer fling, a silver memory, neither one of them willing to do long distance. However, that was two months ago. Now, Harry didn’t want to let Louis go.

But, he couldn’t tell Louis that. Louis would recoil and clam up, as Harry noticed he tended to do when emotions were involved. If Harry said anything, he’d be left to spend his last night in Malibu alone and he’d rather only have a few more hours with Louis than none at all.

Plus, he didn’t know how relationships or love worked. Louis was his first kiss, his first anything. Harry didn’t know the protocol for a normal relationship, much less this situation.

So, he kept his mouth shut and smiled, whispering a quiet “maybe.”

Despite Harry’s prayers, the sun began to set, casting the world in a haze of reds, pinks, purples, and blues. He watched the way the golden light reflected on Louis’s face, making him look even more angelic than normal.

Harry took a mental picture in his mind, vowing that he would remember this moment for the rest of his life. He would remember the way the sand felt between his toes, the water felt against his calves, the wind felt against his cheeks, and most importantly, how Louis’s hand felt in his.

 


	2. part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! 
> 
> so, there's a lot i have to say about this fic. i will add the majority of what needs to be said at the end of the chapter so you don't have to scroll through it all if you're not interested. 
> 
> since 'grease' is a musical and therefore, very musically involved, i decided i would have a playlist for this story and that songs would be dispersed throughout the chapters. the placement of them is where i'd put them in if they were scenes in a movie, so you can think of it like that. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i do not own 'grease' or any of its content. i do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in this story. this is a work of FICTION and therefore, NOT TRUE. none of what occurs in this story has ever happened. i also do not own any of the music mentioned in this story, all credit goes to the original contributors and artists. 
> 
> i also feel it necessary to add that i mean no harm to the people these characters are based off of, as their real names are used. i do not know these people personally, and it is not an accurate projection of who they are as i have no way of knowing. they were bent and molded to fit a story, that’s all. 
> 
> PS: the movie 'grease' doesn't exist in this universe.

_"What have I got to do to make you want me,_

_what have I got to do to be heard,_

_what do I say when it's all over?_

_And sorry seems to be the hardest word"_

_-Elton John, 'Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word' (1976)_

 

 

The first Friday of September brings sun and a nice breeze, and much to Harry’s dismay, the first day of school. 

Harry’s never liked the first day of school. It’s always made him nervous and jittery, filling his stomach with butterflies.

To make matters worse, it’s his first day of school in America, which is completely uncharted territory for him. Sure, he spent the summer there, but going to school? That’s a completely different story.

On the morning Harry and his family were supposed to leave California, his mother had bounded into his room in their rented beach bungalow, excitement written all over her face.

They’d come to America for the summer for his mum’s job, as she’d been chosen to oversee the opening of their new American headquarters. It was only supposed to be for three months, but that morning his mum told him they wanted her to stay for an indefinite amount of time. 

Harry felt a range of emotions, none of them even close to bordering on happy. All of his friends were back home. His family. His life. How could his mother do this to him without asking? 

For a week after, Harry was in a state of despair and forced himself not to look Louis up on social media or send him a text to tell him the news. Louis wouldn’t care that Harry was staying in America. He was only interested in Harry for the summer and Harry had to respect that. So, he refrained.

In an attempt to deal with his emotions, Harry moped around until he stumbled across a small record shop. When he walked in, he saw records smushed together, rows and rows of them taking up almost all of the available space.

The girl behind the makeshift counter had dark brown hair like his and a soft voice. Her name was Sarah Jones and she was Harry’s saving grace. 

She’d asked Harry why the long face, and when Harry explained, Sarah’s face lit up. Apparently, she was a long-term prisoner of Malibu’s Rydell High School and more than happy to be Harry’s guide. 

**Track: Grease // Frankie Valli**

Now, Harry is standing in front of an enormous building with Sarah by his side, wondering why he didn’t beg just a little harder to go back to England and live with his grandparents 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mutters, wringing his hands together and adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. 

There are more students than Harry has ever seen in his life passing by them, laughing with each other and calling out to their friends across the lawn. He’s never wanted the earth to open up and swallow him more than he does now. 

“I know I talked a lot of shit, but it’s really not that bad,” Sarah says and rubs Harry’s arm in an attempt at comforting him. He appreciates the gesture, but it doesn’t work in the least. 

There’s a particularly loud yell followed by a crash so loud there’s no way it didn’t cause some kind of damage. When Harry looks toward where the noise came from, he sees a group of boys yelling around a knocked over bin. 

“Idiots,” Sarah mutters, but her tone is fond. 

“Do you know them?” Harry asks as he drags his eyes away from the commotion. 

Sarah nods as they start to walk down the long, straight sidewalk to the front doors of the school. “I’ve known them all since grade school. They act tough, but they’re all a bunch of softies. Even Tommo.” 

Harry snorts. “What kind of a name is Tommo?” 

“It’s just what everyone calls him,” Sarah shrugs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. When they reach the already open doors, Sarah lets out one extremely long sigh. “Welcome to Rydell.” 

 

****

Harry hates American school. He truly cannot believe he has to spend his last year before university in this environment. 

After finally finding the administrative office to pick up his class schedule, he’d been met with a slow old lady more concerned with smacking her gum than getting Harry to class on time. 

Then, he’d been extremely late to class, having to endure the dreaded moment of opening the door to the classroom and having every single head turn around to look at him like some kind of circus animal. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, his teacher made him introduce himself to the class, the students snickering as he stuttered his way through. 

When the lunch bell rings, Harry trudges out of the classroom to find Sarah there waiting for him. “How’d you get here so fast?” he asks her.

“Ducked out early. Wanted to make sure I snagged you for lunch,” she answers and grabs his wrist. “There’s some people I want you to meet.” 

Harry groans. He doesn’t think he can take meeting any more new people today, especially when the ones he’s met this morning have been far from welcoming. “Do I have to?” 

Sarah rolls her eyes and starts to drag Harry along behind her. They weave through the clumps of people and down a few different hallways before exiting the building through two double doors into a courtyard.

The courtyard is filled with tables and chairs, students scattered around eating and chatting with their friends. Toward the back is a group of three girls, all wearing what seems to be very expensive clothing. Harry knows his family is well-off, but not to this extent. He suddenly feels self conscious in his chosen thrift-store pants. 

Of course, that table is exactly where Sarah drags him. 

“Ladies,” Sarah says as they approach. Two of the girls look up, but the dark headed one stays engrossed in her phone. “This is Harry. He’s new here. He’s from England.” 

Harry shifts on his feet awkwardly, waiting for someone to say something. 

After a beat, the tall blonde girl smiles. “I’m Camille.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says, even though he thinks it’s really not. 

“Lily,” the dark skinned girl next to Camille adds. 

Harry turns to the dark haired girl who’s still engrossed in her phone, waiting for her to speak. 

Sarah clears her throat. “Dani,” she hisses and kicks her chair.

The girl looks up, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to look at Harry. “I’m Dani.” 

Harry gives her an awkward wave and mentally kicks himself for being so weird. “Hi,” he blurts. 

Dani’s eyes trail up and down Harry’s body, taking him in. Her gaze is intense and it makes Harry want to wrap his arms around himself and hide. “Well aren’t you just...adorable,” Dani says, a bored expression on her face. 

“Don’t take it personally. She’s like this with everyone,” Sarah tells Harry as she sits down at the table, pulling him down next to her. 

As Harry takes out his peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, Lily leans across the table to talk to him. 

“So, how are you liking school so far, Harry?” she asks. 

“It’s different,” he says quietly.

Lily opens her mouth to speak, but they’re interrupted by a shrill “hey, guys!” 

Everyone at the table groans. Harry looks over to see a tall, skinny girl with long dark hair bounding over to the table in a cheerleader uniform. He didn’t know girls actually wore those to school. He thought that was just on the telly. 

“Kendall Jenner, the only person who actually wears the cheer uniform the first day of-hi!” Dani says, her voice immediately changing when Kendall reaches their table. 

“I just love the first day of school, don’t you?” she exclaims.

“It’s the biggest thrill of my life,” Dani answers, bored.

“You’ll never guess what’s happened!” Kendall says gleefully, clapping her hands together.

“Probably not,” Dani mutters.

Kendall leans in close to the table, her shrill voice getting louder. “The nominees just came out for student council and guess who’s up for vice president?” 

Dani shoots the other girls a look of annoyance. “Who?” 

Kendall’s voice goes impossibly high as she shouts “me!” She starts to hand out fliers to all the girls as the table. Harry wonders how someone could possibly be that prepared on the first day of school. He barely got out of the bed this morning. 

Kendall’s eyes land on Harry. “Oh, you must think I’m a terrible person for not introducing myself to your friend.” She rounds the table, coming over to shake Harry’s hand rather aggressively. “I’m Kendall Jenner, welcome to Rydell!”

“Hi, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says, more than a little taken aback by Kendall’s enthusiasm. She seems to be a bit of a nutter. He understands now why the rest of the girls groaned when they heard her coming.

“I have to keep handing out these campaign fliers, but I’ll see you around!” Kendall says, skipping off. 

The table breathes a collective sigh of relief. 

“I like those glasses, Camille,” Sarah says after Kendall has gone. 

“Don’t you think they make me look smarter?” Camille giggles, wiggling the glasses up and down. 

“No, you can still see your face,” Dani says, prompting all of the girls to laugh. 

Camille gasps and looks down at her food in shock.“My diamond fell in my macaroni!” Camille exclaims, grabbing her fork and pushing the yellow noodles around on her plate. 

**Track: Summer Nights // Olivia Newton-John & John Travolta **

Briefly, Harry wonders why Sarah is friends with these girls. She isn’t like them at all. These girls seem to be cruel and catty and pretentious, but Harry reminds himself that first impressions aren’t really everything and they could be very nice girls. And he trusts Sarah. Also, he’ll take any friends he can get at this point. 

“So, we know all about Camille’s marine down in Oceanside, but what about the rest of you ladies? And Harry? Any romances we should know about?” Lily asks. 

“Things are still off and on with Zayn,” Dani shrugs. 

“When aren’t they,” Camille replies with a roll of her eyes. 

Harry has no idea who these people are. He’s thinking about Louis now though. He’s thinking about sun-kissed skin and melted mint chocolate chip ice cream and warm, salty kisses by the ocean. He’s thinking about how much he’d rather be on the beach with Louis than in this hell. 

“Harry’s got a boy!” Sarah says, dragging an unwilling Harry into the conversation. He likes Sarah, he does, but he’s honestly never wanted to scream more.

“I don’t have anyone. It was a summer fling,” Harry says. 

“Oooh!” Lily exclaims. “Tell me more! Tell me more! Was it love at first sight?” 

Harry can’t help the way his heart expands at the thought of Louis. He may only be eighteen years old, but he knows he could have loved Louis if given the chance. “He was honestly the cutest boy I’ve ever seen. We spent most of our days at the beach together.” 

Camille lets out an “aw” before speaking. “Did he like, have a car?” 

“He did, yeah.”

“Did he spend a lot of dough on you?” Lily asks. 

Harry thinks that’s a really shallow question, but he answers anyway. “I mean, a normal amount? I guess? Like, he bought me dinner and stuff.”

“Sounds like a drag,” Dani says. 

Harry curls into himself at her comment, leaning closer to Sarah. He knows it wasn’t steamy or overly sexual, but Harry’s never been one for rushing into things. He was more than happy with the sweet kisses, beach days, and star gazes that Louis offered him. Harry didn’t need wild and crazy. In fact, he’d been the one to stop things from going further.

“So, like. How far did you go?” Camille questions, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. Harry notices as she closes her purse that the bag is Gucci.

“We kissed and held hands,” Harry says softly. 

“Adorable,” Dani comments. 

“Come on, Dani,” Sarah chides. “It’s cute.”

Harry doesn’t like to be mean, but he really doesn’t care for Dani. She seems to be bitter and jaded. Too pessimistic and mocking for Harry’s taste. 

“What did you say his name was?” Dani asks, taking a sip of her water.

“Oh, I didn’t. But it was Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” 

The water Dani just swallowed makes an abrupt reappearance on the table as she spits it out. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

The rest of the girls are wearing similar expressions of shock, but Harry chalks it up the fact that Dani just momentarily became a human fountain.

“What’s up with the clothes?” Lily asks next. 

“Sorry?” Harry answers. What’s wrong with his clothes? He rather likes his clothes. 

“You’ve just, got some like grandpa style pants on and your shirt is buttoned all the way up. It’s weird. No one dresses like that here,” Lily says. And Harry doesn’t think she has ill intentions, but the comment still stings. 

“Come on, Harry,” Sarah says and stands up, tossing the rest of her food in the trash. 

Harry stands up alongside her, resolutely staring at the ground. 

“You two are coming to Niall’s party tonight, right?” Camille asks casually, like she didn’t just insult Harry directly to his face. 

And right. The apparently infamous back-to-school party some kid named Niall Horan (Sarah talks about him a lot) throws every year. Sarah mentioned it to him. Harry really doesn’t want to go. He knows he should, but he just wants to curl up on the couch with a bag of crisps and Netflix. “Um-“he starts, but is quickly cut off by Sarah. 

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” she answers for the both of them. 

“Hey, Harry,” Dani calls as he and Sarah walk away. He stops to look at her. “It’s too bad about Louis. Maybe you’ll meet again someday.” 

Harry frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, maybe.” 

 

****

Harry’s panicking. 

Like, full-blown panicking. 

He’s never been to a party before in his life. He has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to wear, what he’s supposed to do. This is a nightmare and he just wants to wake up. 

There’s a knock on his door. “Harry, love,”a high voice calls. 

“Yeah, Mum?” Harry responds, running nervous fingers through his hair for the millionth time. 

“Sarah’s here,” his mum says.

“Be right there.” He does not want to be right there. If he does go “there,”, he hopes “there” is his early grave. 

Harry closes his eyes for a moment, letting the whirring of his ceiling fan attempt to drown out the noise of his traitorous thoughts. With a sigh, he grabs a light blue jacket from his bed and slips into his worn-out flip-flops, trudging out of the door. 

Sarah is waiting for him with his mum in the living room in a pair of cut-offs and a yellow bikini top. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and Harry thinks she looks stunning. He figures she’s the type of girl he would ask out on a date, if he was into that sort of thing. 

“Hey, you ready?” Sarah asks, excitement laced through her voice. 

**Track: You’re Still a Mystery // Bleachers**

Harry shrugs and forces a smile. He gives his mum a brief kiss on the cheek before, telling her he’ll see her later, and lets himself be led out of the front door by Sarah and down to her black Jeep. 

“You ever go to parties in England?” Sarah questions as she puts the Jeep into reverse, looking over her shoulder. Harry lets his arm rest out of the open window, the night air kissing his skin softly, the moon hung low in the sky. 

“No, never. I’m just not really into all of this, y’know? It’s not my scene.” Harry picks at a loose thread in his blue swim trunks, the color making him smile for a minute as a corner store and a blue-eyed boy cross his mind. 

Sarah turns down a road lined with palm trees, illuminated by lights along the drive. Harry turns his attention forward, gulping at the house--no,  _ mansion _ \--in front of him. “This is his house?” Harry gulps. 

With a grin, Sarah pulls the car around the side of the house, seemingly familiar with the landscape. Harry decides she’s been here more than a few times. The Jeep rocks back and forth and they drive onto the beach behind the house, stopping a couple of miles away from the raging bonfire. 

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. Niall loves everyone. Literally the whole school will be here tonight. No one’s judging anyone. We’re all just here to blow off some steam before the semester really starts.” Sarah turns the car off, leaving the windows down and hopping out. She slams her door closed and smiles at Harry through her open window. “It’s tradition.” 

There’s a pause and Harry just stares at the flames from the fire as they rise higher and higher. He knows he needs to get out of the car and make friends. Like it or not, he has to spend the next nine months with these people before he’s free to go back to England for university. 

He opens his own door, kicking his flip-flops off and holding them in one hand before he jumps down into the warm sand. He wiggles his toes a bit, still loving the way it grits underneath his feet and between his toes despite his current wish to be somewhere else. 

It doesn’t take long for Sarah to spot Dani, Camille, and Lily and she takes off toward them, counting on Harry following her, which he does because. Where else is he going to go? Honestly. 

“Bitches!” Sarah yells and the girls all turn to look at them as they slide down the sandy hill toward the fire. Harry tries not to cough when a mixture of cigarette smoke and smoke from the fire blows in their direction, filling his lungs without permission. He watches Dani take a final drag of a cigarette before dropping it in the sand. Harry hopes his disgust at her blatant disregard for the health of the earth isn’t written all over his face. 

“Sarah! Harry! You guys made it!” Lily exclaims and attempts to clap her hands together which causes her drink to slosh over the rim of her cup, splashing onto the sand by her feet. “Oops,” she giggles. 

Dani’s digging around in a red ice chest when they reach the other girls, turning around with two wine coolers in her hands. She thrusts them forward, one to Harry and one to Sarah. 

Harry shakes his head. “Oh, no, thank you. I don’t drink.” 

Dani looks at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? It’s a  _ wine cooler _ for fuck’s sake.” 

_ And my father died from alcohol poisoning, _ Harry thinks.

There’s a fire burning underneath Harry’s skin that he knows is causing his face to turn red. He prays no one can see the blush under the cover of the night sky. 

“Hey, at least he’ll still have a functioning liver by the time he’s thirty unlike the rest of us,” Camille adds. She’s clutching a half-empty bottle of what seems to be tequila like it’s the only thing keeping her alive. Harry wants to know how she’s still standing up straight and speaking in coherent sentences. She must have the alcohol tolerance of a rhino. If rhinos even have an alcohol tolerance. Harry doesn’t know. 

“Let me guess, you don’t want a cigarette either?” Dani adds and hands him a bottle of water. 

“No, thanks.” There’s shouting getting closer and Harry notes that it’s extremely similar to the commotion he heard on the lawn from those lads at school that morning. He cranes his neck to look over the smoky haze from the fire and sees a group of boys fumbling down the beach, toward them.

“Hey, ladies!” a voice shouts. A brunette boy emerges from the smoke, followed by another brunette boy and...a Greek god. Harry chokes on his water. 

“Who  _ is _ that?” he asks Sarah. 

“The loud one? That’d be our gracious host, Mr. Niall Horan, the one I told you about.” She takes a swig of her wine cooler. “The gorgeous one is Zayn Malik--Dani’s...whatever he is. And the other one is Liam Payne.” 

Zayn slinks over to Dani in a leather jacket and black jeans, sliding a hand through his perfect dark hair. This is a beach party and Harry wants to know why he showed up dressed like a model. It just isn’t fair. 

The one Sarah pointed out to be Niall comes over to them, a manic grin on his face. “Sarah Jones!” he exclaims, pulling her into a hug before glancing over at Harry. “Who’s your friend?” 

“This is Harry!” Sarah says. “He’s from England.” 

“Cool, bro. My dad’s Irish,” Niall says and takes a swig of his beer. He’s quiet for a minute and then his eyes begin to widen slowly. “Wait. What’s your last name?” 

“Styles?” Harry offers, confused.

“Holy shit!” Niall laughs and that’s definitely the most excited anyone has ever been over learning Harry’s last name. “Guys!” Niall calls over his shoulder. Zayn looks over from what appears to be a very heated conversation with Dani and Liam looks from where he’s standing with Camille and Lily. “This is Harry!” 

Zayn gives him a half-wave and Liam gives him a lopsided grin. “‘Sup, man?” Liam says. 

Niall slings an arm around Harry’s shoulder, the smell of alcohol rolling off of him in waves. Harry tries not to breathe in too deeply. “No, you fuckers! It’s  _ Harry!  _ British Harry!” He tries to subtly makes a crude blow-job motion and Harry’s inexperienced and a little naïve, but he’s not  _ stupid. _

“Oh, fuck,” Zayn comments with a gleeful laugh and yeah, Harry is so very, very confused. He can’t remember the last time he was this confused.

“You absolute fucking legend!” Niall yells, right into Harry’s ear, no less. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Harry asks, hoping that didn’t come out as rude as he thinks it did.

“Nah, bro. But, boy, do we have a surprise for you!” Niall says. He turns to Dani. “I can’t believe this is why you told us to come over here first without Tommo.” 

Dani grins wickedly.

Sarah is jumping excitedly next to Harry, a wide smile on her face. 

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Harry asks, an uneasy feeling settling deep in the pit of his stomach, reminiscent of how he felt right before he took his English A-levels.

“You’re going to love it,” Sarah says. “I feel like we’ve been planning this for ages, but it’s really only been a few hours.” 

“Planning  _ what?”  _ Harry pleads. 

No one says anything. They’re all just smiling creepily. Harry wants to leave. 

Two more boys show up before he gets the chance, though. 

“Surprise!” Sarah screeches, apparently already tipsy from one wine cooler. 

Harry looks closer at the boys and he immediately stops breathing because, that’s. That’s Louis. His Louis. That’s blue powerade, soft touches, soft skin, and even softer kisses  _ Louis _ . He thinks he’s going to be sick. Or faint. He doesn’t know. All he knows is he is most definitely not okay. 

When he resumes breathing, he can hear his own heart pounding in his ears, feel sweat gathering in the creases of his palms, and taste the anxiety on his tongue. And,  _ Tommo,  _ was short for Tomlinson this entire time. Suddenly, it all makes some sort of sense. 

Louis looks as beautiful as ever. His light brown hair is swept across his forehead, his skin is still beautifully sun-kissed, and he’s wearing a pair of blue swim shorts and a white t-shirt that Harry can see straight through. He’s radiant. He’s the stuff dreams are made of. 

Well, Harry’s dreams at least. 

The second their eyes meet, Harry swears time stops and the world stops spinning. A look of shock passes over Louis’s face before it’s overtaken by absolute joy. 

“Louis!” Harry blurts before he can stop himself.

“Harry!” Louis exclaims, rushing forward to wrap Harry in his arms. It’s only been a few weeks, but Harry missed the way Louis’s body felt pressed against his. He closes his eyes and breathes in the mixture of salt, sweat, and lemon laundry detergent that Louis always smells of. “God, what are you still doing here?” 

“My mum, her job,” Harry manages to stutter out because evidently, he’s forgotten the English language and how to speak it. And he hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol. 

Louis steps back from Harry, still grinning. He lifts a hand to push Harry’s curls back from his face before looking around at their audience and the shocked expressions they’re all wearing. Harry doesn’t know why they’re so surprised, they planned this. 

When Louis turns back to face Harry, the smile is gone and replaced by a smirk. Something in his demeanor has shifted, Harry can tell. Spending endless days and nights with someone for an entire summer will teach you a lot, even if the person isn’t willing to offer up much personal information. 

There’s a mischievous glint in Louis’s eyes now, and it’s not the one Harry grew so fond of. 

“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” Louis says flippantly. “Guess her bosses knew what a good lay you were and wanted to keep you around for me.” 

And- _ what? _ They never did anything other than kiss and hold hands! Harry feels his cheeks start to heat up in embarrassment. 

“Ay, Tommo!” Niall cheers, putting his beer in the air in what Harry can only assume is a drunken attempt at a toast.

Harry’s brows bunch together and he frowns. “Louis? What the hell is the matter with you?” 

Louis laughs and it’s cocky and not like the Louis Harry knows at all. “What’s the matter with me, baby? What’s the matter with you?” 

“Louis,” Harry repeats. His tone is borderline begging, but Harry doesn’t even know what he’s begging for.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Louis grins. That smile used to make Harry’s stomach fill with butterflies. Now, he just feels sick. 

Everyone laughs, except for Sarah who steps up and puts a hand on Harry’s arm protectively. Harry lied when he said he’d never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him more than earlier that morning at school. He definitely wants it to happen now more than ever. 

“What happened to the Louis I met at the beach?” Harry asks, hating how small his voice sounds. 

“Dunno, babe,” Louis shrugs. 

Someone whistles low under their breath. Someone else breathes out an “oh, shit.” There’s laughter from further down the beach and up at Niall’s house, but all Harry can hear is the roaring of the waves in his ears.

It takes everything in him to gather his courage and find his voice, but when he does, he looks Louis dead in the eyes. He thinks he sees a flicker of regret in them, but that’s probably just Harry’s wishful thinking. 

“You’re a coward and a liar, Louis Tomlinson and I wish I’d never laid eyes on you,” Harry says as coldly as he can muster, jerking his arm out of Sarah’s grip and turning on his heel to rush up the hill of sand toward the row of cars lined up. He spots Sarah’s Jeep and makes a beeline for it, going around to the hood to be out of sight from everyone down on the beach. 

There’s a familiar sting behind Harry’s eyes and he feels the lump in his throat growing larger by the second. He doesn’t want to cry. He especially doesn’t want anyone to  _ see _ him cry. They already think he’s enough of a loser and a wimp. Also, he’s been humiliated enough for one night. 

However, he’s never been good at controlling his emotions and soon there are tears streaming down his face. He buries his head in his hands, putting pressure on his eyes to try to stop the tears. 

He doesn’t understand what happened. The Louis he met at the beach had been kind, generous, humble, and loving. This Louis was cocky and mean, more concerned with getting a few laughs from his friends than the people he hurts in the process. 

“Harry?” Sarah calls out. 

Wiping furiously at his eyes, Harry tries to compose himself as much as possible before Sarah makes it around to the front of the car. He tucks his hands underneath his half-bare thighs, finding slight comfort in the pressure. It’s grounding. 

Harry hears feet shifting in sand and looks up from his lap to meet Sarah’s sympathetic eyes. “There you are,” she says and takes a seat next to him on the hood of her Jeep. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he would act like that. I really thought it would be a nice surprise. You talked so much about him these last few weeks and when I realized it was our Louis, I just wanted to make you happy.” 

Harry sniffles. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You were just trying to do something nice. I appreciate the thought, really.” 

Sarah wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders, leaning her head on his bicep due to their height difference. “He had no right to embarrass you like that. Share private information. Men are trash.” 

“You can say that again,” Harry laughs wetly. “I’m such an idiot for thinking he was different. I don’t understand why he acted like that.” 

Sarah sighs. “Let me tell you about Louis. He was always the kindest little boy until he was outed in middle school by a few asshole boys that have since moved away. Ever since then, it’s like he’s felt the need to make up for being gay by being funny or a ‘bad boy.’ I promise the Louis you met at the beach was the real Louis. He’s completely different when he’s alone.” 

Harry feels his heart break a little in his chest imagining little Louis struggling to accept himself and feeling the need to cover up who he really is. The feeling doesn’t last long, though, and it’s quickly replaced by anger. “That doesn’t excuse his behavior.” 

“No, it doesn’t at all. I’m just giving you the explanation so you understand why he flipped switches like that,” Sarah says. She slides off of the hood, jumping into the sand and resting both of her hands on Harry’s sandy knees. “Come on, we’re going to my house for a sleepover with the rest of the girls.”

It’s no shock that Harry doesn’t want to go, but he also really doesn’t want to be alone or have to explain to his mum and his sister why he’s been crying.  He figures facing the girls he was just humiliated in front of sounds like the lesser of the two evils. So, he slides off of the hood and into the sand, the same way Sarah had moments prior. 

**Track: Dreams // Fleetwood Mac**

Harry starts to walk to the passenger’s side, shooting his mum a brief text to let him know what he’s doing, but Sarah stops him from walking. “Can you drive? I only had the one wine cooler, but better safe than sorry,” she says while tossing her car keys back and forth between her hands. 

It would be a nice distraction. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” Sarah tosses the keys and Harry catches them in one hand, earning an obligatory “nice catch” from her. He moves around the front of the Jeep to the driver’s side, opening the door and sliding into the seat. 

He pulls out slowly, following the same path Sarah took to get them down to the beach. “I’m a little bummed I didn’t get to see the inside of Niall’s huge house,” Harry comments as they drive along the side of it. 

Sarah laughs. “That place is a maze, but it’s gorgeous.” She’s silent for a minute before she speaks again. “I’m sure you’ll get another chance to see it.” 

Harry forces a small smile, but doesn’t reply, just stares straight ahead at the rows of palm trees. He merges onto the Pacific Coast Highway as the GPS tells him, deciding to leave the windows down to feel the breeze and smell the ocean. 

Fleetwood Mac plays softly on the radio, Stevie Nicks crooning about being played by someone and Harry thinks the fact that ‘Dreams’ came on right now would be a funny coincidence if he were in the mood for laughing. 

The steady roll of the wheels on the pavement relaxes Harry’s body and he allows himself a small, self-indulgent moment to drift off into a memory that’s wrapped in gold. 

_ Harry didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of being on the beach. The pretty much constant sunshine made it nearly impossible to be sad. Having Louis by his side didn’t hurt either.  _

_ Harry smiled up into the sun, letting the warmth of its rays wash over his salt and sand-sticky body. Louis’s arm was wrapped around his middle, his hand resting in the dip of his side. They’d surfed all morning; or, Louis surfed all morning. Harry never even stood up on his board, getting knocked over by the vicious waves every time. He didn’t mind the fact that he never got the hang of it because he thought watching Louis was much more entertaining and Harry told him as much.  _

_ “Cheeky,” Louis said, giving Harry’s side a little squeeze that made Harry yelp in surprise.  _

_ “Look at you, using British words,” Harry teased and knocked their hips together.  _

_ “Oh, God. I’m turning into a Brit. Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with you,” Louis scoffed in fake annoyance, detaching himself from Harry’s side. “I guess that just means I’ll have to run away,” he said and started to back up, grinning at Harry the entire time. His eyes crinkled up at the corners and were alight with laughter.  _

_ Harry started after him, arms outstretched making grabby hands. “Nooo!” he whined. “Lou, come back! I’ll still like you as a pseudo-Brit!”  _

_ “A pseudo-Brit? That’s what I’ve been reduced to? Harold, I must say I am hurt. Absolutely devastated. How will I ever recover from this crushing blow to my precious ego?” Louis clutched a hand to his chest and grasped at a fake wound somewhere in the general vicinity of his heart. He wasn’t really paying attention to where his hand landed, his mind too focused on the beautiful, curly-headed boy chasing after him with giggles spilling from his lips.  _

_ The sound of their laughter mingling with the cries of seagulls and crashes of waves was the most beautiful sound in the world. A private melody, a secret language made just for them.  _

_ Harry caught up to Louis, cheering in victory as he wrapped the smaller boy in his arms, causing Louis to giggle uncontrollably. “Got you!”  _

_ “You did,” Louis said softly as his feet touched the ground, Harry setting him down slowly. “A true man of stealth and stamina, you are, Curly.”  _

_ Harry let the ocean talk for him as it swirled around their ankles in a soft caress, greeting them like an old friend. He felt bold, which never happened, so he leaned forward and captured Louis’s mouth in a soft kiss. Just a gentle press of the lips.  _

_ “That’s new. Normally I’ve got to make the first move,” Louis breathed, their foreheads resting together, lips barely a hair’s width apart.  _

_ “Was feeling spontaneous. Guess you’re rubbing off on me as well,” Harry whispered. Louis pulled back, waggling his eyebrows at Harry. “Don’t even say it,” Harry warned.  _

_ “You never let me have any fun,” Louis pouted. His eyes flicked up to Harry’s eyes and then back down to his lips.“Don’t stop with the spontaneous thing. I like it.” He surged forward and reconnected their lips.  _

_ It was a stolen moment, hidden behind the heat of the sun and the whispers of the ocean, but it was an important one. One that made Harry realize there was absolutely nothing like this in England and there was nothing like Louis anywhere.  _

_ Harry made a noise of surprise low in his throat, but he wasn’t complaining. He opened his mouth, allowing their tongues to brush together, fire curling low in his belly. He kept his hands around Louis’s waist, not daring to go any lower for fear of making a mistake he couldn’t come back from.  _

_ It seemed Louis had other ideas. He broke away from the kiss, pressing his lips to Harry’s jaw before biting down under it, leaving a mark that was already blooming red. Harry shocked himself when he moaned, tilting his head to make it easier for Louis. His mind was foggy, a constant mantra of LouisLouisLouis. He almost forgot they were in public.  _

_ “Wait, Louis, stop,” Harry said, his voice more of pant than anything. “We’re in public.”  _

_ “We can go back to yours,” Louis said, kissing along Harry’s collarbone, the touch faint, but intoxicating all the same.  _

_ Harry froze, his entire body tensing up. He was surprised he was even able to process the words in his lust-ridden mind (he wouldn’t dare say love), but everything happening with Louis was already sensory overload and a lot for him to work through. Despite how much his body wanted him to, his heart didn’t want to go any further than harmless groping and kissing. Not yet. “Um,” he said.  _

_ “What’s wrong?” Louis frowned.  _

_ “I’m just not ready to go any further than we already have. I’m sorry,” Harry averted his gaze, looking away from Louis and out to the sea instead.  _

_ He felt Louis’s fingers dance lightly across his jaw, prompting Harry to look at him. He didn’t know what he expected to see when he looked at Louis. Disgust. Disappointment? Laughter, maybe?  _

_ What he got was understanding blue eyes and a soft smile. “Hey, I get it. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I won’t even try it unless you say it’s okay.”  _

_ Harry wished he could put Louis in his pocket and take him back to England. He’d never met anyone like him and he doubted he ever would again. Boys like this weren’t real, they just didn’t exist. Louis was every fairytale wrapped into one and Harry didn’t know how he was supposed to let him go when the summer ended.  _

_ In lieu of a response, Harry gave Louis a peck on the lips. “Come on, let’s go grab lunch.”  _

Harry smiles to himself, eyes a little watery and throat a little tight. He turns off of the highway when the GPS tells him, driving a little further until he reaches a posh neighborhood of huge houses. Not as huge as Niall’s, but still big. Bigger than his mum could ever afford. 

At Sarah’s instruction, he turns into a short driveway and puts the car into park, taking the key out of the ignition. He can still feel the thrum of the engine in his fingers.  “When’s everyone else getting here?” Harry asks when they’re on the front porch. 

“They should be here soon,” Sarah replies, turning the key in the lock of the front door and swinging it open. 

It’s dark, but Harry can tell the inside of the home is just as nice as the outside. Shadows of art work tell him as much. 

He follows Sarah up the stairs quietly to her room before remembering that he doesn’t have any clothes with him, or, well, anything at all, really. 

“I don’t have any clothes…or a toothbrush,” he says. 

“You can borrow some of my brother’s clothes and we have a pack of extra toothbrushes in the bathroom,” Sarah says over her shoulder. 

Harry accepts the offer gratefully, desperately wanting to get out of his swim shorts and wash the sand from his legs. When he makes it to the hall bathroom, he shuts the door and locks it behind him, leaning against it for a minute to breathe. 

Looking in the mirror is a bigger shock to Harry than he thought it would be. He was expecting to look as terrible as he felt, but the only evidence that he’d had his heart broken was the slight puffiness of his eyes, little angry red marks barely visible underneath the fluorescent lighting.

With the release of an over-dramatic sigh, Harry splashes water on his face and grabs a towel from the silver rack to dry off with. He finds the toothbrushes where Sarah said they would be (under the cabinet) and helps himself to one. 

Shrill voices echo down the hallway. And that’d be the rest of the girls. Harry hopes his night will get better now. Maybe he can relax, make some new friends. Maybe these girls aren’t as awful as they seem. 

After brushing his teeth and washing off his legs, Harry changes into the clothes Sarah left for him. It’s a pair of sweatpants that are a little too big on him (he pulls the drawstring tighter, hoping they won’t slide any lower on his hips), and a t-shirt. 

He meanders down the hallway back to Sarah’s bedroom where the girls have already set up camp. Camille and Sarah are on the bed, flipping through an issue of Vogue, Lily is on the floor intently watching a cartoon, and Dani is perched on the sill of the open window, a cigarette dangling loosely from her slim fingers—the perfect picture of grace with a dash of rebellion.

Harry looks at Dani a little bit longer. She’s beautiful, there’s no denying that. Harry likes the slant of her nose and the fullness of her lips. It works well on her. Harry wants to know what made such a pretty girl so sad and jaded. Maybe if he understood, he’d like her the way the others seem to. He wouldn’t take her jabs personally. 

The thought leads to another, much more unwelcome thought which is Louis,  _ again. _ Harry can’t get him out of his head. He thinks about how Louis sometimes had the same chip on his shoulder when they were together. Mainly anytime Harry brought up their childhoods or families; and, he avoided relationship talk like the plague.

The story Sarah told him earlier flits through his mind and he feels his resolve start to slip a little. 

He doesn’t realize he’s still staring at Dani until she looks at him, raising her eyebrows curiously. “You want a drag?” she asks. 

Harry thinks about the hole in his heart and the ache in his bones and decides,  _ fuck it _ . What’s one tiny drag of a cigarette. “Sure,” Harry shrugs and steps forward to take it from her outstretched hand. 

He’s nervous. He’s never done anything like this before and he is abundantly aware of the three pairs of eyes following his movements. He chances a look at Sarah, seeing that her eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline. 

The cigarette feels light between his fingers, the paper smooth and white. Harry brings the cigarette to his lips, the same way he’s seen it in the movies, and sucks in. 

This was a bad idea. This was a bad, bad idea. Harry shouldn’t be allowed to make his own decisions anymore.  

Immediately, his lungs hurt and his throat burns. A series of violent coughs leave his body and he passes the cigarette back to Dani, catching the amused expression on her face through his watering eyes. 

“Sorry,” Harry chokes out, his voice still not sounding quite like his own. 

“Don’t sweat it, H. Everyone chokes the first few times,” Sarah says from her spot on the bed. 

_ “I _ didn’t,” Camille brags. 

Sarah rolls her eyes, giving Camille a shove that sends her tumbling off of the bed. She lands with a loud “oof.” 

“That’s because you’re not human. You’re the goddamn anti-christ,” Sarah retorts. 

“I object to that comparison,” Camille responds from the floor. It doesn’t seem like she’s going to get up anytime soon by the way she’s now sprawled out on her back. 

“No one cares,” Lily adds also from the floor, but in front of the bed. 

Harry smiles a little at their banter, remembering his friends from home and the ways they would all tease each other. Harry misses them terribly. The only good thing about America was Louis and the beach and now one of those things was gone. 

He wants to go home. 

His stomach suddenly rolls from the cigarette and he feels it start to claw its way up his throat. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Harry blurts before running out of Sarah’s door and back down the hallway to the bathroom. 

The toilet awaits him with open arms, or lid, rather. He collapses to his knees in front of it, his body convulsing and lurching as he empties the contents of his stomach. He’s gasping for breath by the time he’s done and his back aches painfully. He feels the tears begin to well up in his eyes, but he forces them down. He will not cry like a primary school kid because he threw up and wants his mummy. 

When he’s flushed the toilet, he grabs the toothbrush he’d used earlier and brushes his teeth again, clearing the taste of bile from his mouth. He leaves the bathroom without ever looking in the mirror, not wanting to look at the embarrassment that he is. 

Slowly, he makes it back down the hallway to Sarah’s room, but stops short when he hears hushed whispers floating into the hallway from the crack in Sarah’s bedroom door. He knows he should just walk in, break up whatever conversation they’re having. He knows eavesdropping is bad and sneaky. He knows this, but he stands there dumbly anyway, listening. 

“Honestly, leave it to Sarah to take in the stray gay kid to complete our cliche. We’re a group of girls, obviously we had to have the honorary gay boy,” Dani says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Are they talking about  _ him? _

“He’s weird,” Camille says. 

“He’s a loser. He won’t even drink and he threw up from one tiny drag of a cigarette. I don’t know how he ever got someone like Louis,” Dani says.

That would be a yes. 

“I mean seriously, who does he think he is with his ‘no, thank you,’” Dani continues, mocking Harry. “‘Sex? Oh, no! We just kissed and held hands like children.’ He’s such a goody two-shoes it makes me want to barf.” 

And that’s enough of that. Harry walks into the room and the girls all jump, looking like deer in headlights. Caught red-handed. “You making fun of me, Dani?” he asks, voice surprisingly confident. He guesses he’s had enough for one day. Hell, he’s had enough for a month. 

“Don’t be so sensitive,” Dani says. 

Harry knows there’s a reason this girl is so bitter, but just like Louis, that still doesn’t excuse her behavior. He turns to Sarah. “I think I’d better go. Thank you for inviting me and I’m sorry for being so much trouble.” 

Sarah jumps up from the bed, rushing to Harry. “Don’t go! Ignore Dani, she doesn’t matter.” 

“Thanks,” Dani comments from the window.

Sarah flips her off. “Seriously, ignore her. We can still have fun. I don’t want you to go home and mope.” 

“Yeah!” Camille says. Harry notes that she’s no longer on the floor. Somewhere between his trip to the bathroom and their awful conversation, she ended up back on the bed. 

“You think I’m weird,” Harry tells her flatly. 

Camille winces. “You heard that?” 

Harry just stares, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“Look, it’s just we don’t really know you, so that’s why I said that. I say stupid shit all the time,” Camille continues, looking sheepish. 

“Okay,” Harry sighs. 

“You’ll stay?” Sarah asks, eyes full of hope. 

“I’ll stay,” Harry confirms. 

**Track: Hopelessly Devoted To You // Olivia Newton-John**

Sarah squeals and throws her arms around him in a hug. “I promise it’ll be fun. We can take your mind off of Louis.” She pauses. “Or maybe talking about it would help?” 

Harry contemplates this for a moment and decides a second opinion couldn’t hurt. “I know in my head I’m being an idiot and I should just forget about him, but my heart just doesn’t want to let go.” 

Lily turns to face him. “Louis is a good guy. What he did tonight was really shitty, but that’s not him. When we were younger-” 

“I told him,” Sarah interjects. 

Lily shrugs. “I think you could work past that tough exterior he’s putting up. You did it once already over the summer.” 

“I’ve never seen him so excited to see someone in my life. I mean, before he started being an absolute cocksucker,” Camille says. Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh my God, was that homophobic? I swear I’m not homophobic.” 

“Just say asshole next time, Camille,” Lily tells her. Camille nods and looks at Harry apologetically. Harry smiles at her to let her know it’s alright. He wasn’t offended at all. Actually, he found it pretty funny. 

“If you want my advice,” Dani starts, still sitting on the window sill, “which, you probably don’t, but I’ll give it anyway. Just let him go. All men do is lie and tell you they love you just to turn around and leave you.”

Harry guesses that’s part of the answer to why Dani is so rude. He sits down on the bed next to the place Sarah returned to. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m pretty hopeless, though.” 

Much to Harry’s distaste, he’s out of his head for Louis. If he would just apologize, Harry would—

The sound of a loud engine cuts through the night and subsequently, Harry’s thoughts. It filters in through the window. “We’ve got company,” Dani says, jumping down to the floor so that she can lean out the window. “The boys are here,” she adds over her shoulder with a rare smile. 

Harry’s stomach drops and he feels a little nauseous again. He knows who “the boys” entail, now. 

The girls crowd around the window and Harry follows them, looking out into the night. Close to the window is what seems to be a 1969 Chevy Camaro, if Harry’s memory serves him correctly. His dad was really into cars. 

Harry spots Zayn, Liam, Niall, Stan, and, of course, Louis. He doesn’t even want to know how they all managed to squeeze into that tiny backseat. 

Louis and Niall are wrestling while Stan and Liam talk on the side. Zayn is looking up at the open window, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yells, “Dani! Come down here.” 

“Why?” she calls back, huge grin on her face. It’s almost scary to Harry, to see her happy. He can’t believe he’s only known these people for a day. He feels like this day has lasted for an entire year. 

“Wanna take you somewhere!” he yells. 

“Shh! You’ll wake the dead,” Dani says. “I’m coming down.” 

Harry expects her to use the stairs, but she doesn’t. She swings one leg over the window sill and then the other, sliding out with her front facing the wall of the house. 

“Oh my God!” Camille screams. “Dani, what are you doing?” 

“Why can’t you just use the stairs like a normal person,” Sarah hisses and yeah, that’s exactly what Harry was thinking. 

It’s a rhetorical question, but Dani answers anyway, “Where’s the fun in that?” She has a manic grin on her face and she lets go of the window, dropping down to the roof below her. 

Harry watches in shock, and a little bit in awe, as she climbs to the edge of the roof and begins to scale down the side of the house using the vines of ivy. 

All the while, the boys are hooting and cheering her on. 

_ Men _ . 

Harry’s been actively trying not to look at Louis, but he lets himself look away from Dani’s impromptu show of extreme balance and coordination. He lets himself look at Louis. He only does it because he knows he can’t be seen, hidden behind Camille, who is still panicking. 

Louis and Niall have stopped wrestling. They’re now walking over to where Stan and Liam have congregated around Zayn and Dani, who has apparently reached the ground.

“Bro, are you fucking kidding? We don’t have a car!” Stan shouts. 

“You can’t just leave us here for a girl,” Louis says. And Harry hates the way his heart speeds up at the sound of his voice. He hates the way he can still hear that voice telling him he’s beautiful. 

Dani walks to the passenger side of the car and gets in, leaving Zayn to deal with his angry friends. 

Zayn holds his hand out in what could only be an attempt to keep the peace. Harry thinks it’s funny, four boys standing around in swim shorts and t-shirts, shouting angrily at the one friend who went to the beach party in a leather jacket. “Look, I’ll pick you guys up in the morning,” Zayn says.

“Sure, Zayn. They can stay here. Thank you for asking,” Sarah mutters sarcastically. Harry snorts and then panics because  _ no _ . He cannot stay in the same house with Louis all night. Louis cannot walk into this house. This is not happening. 

“Are we going or what?” Dani calls out the window. 

It happens like this (Harry’s demise, that is): Zayn gets into the car. Zayn tears out of the driveway. Niall, Liam, Louis, and Stan sit around staring at each other in shock. Those four boys eventually shrug and walk to the front door. Sarah, Camille, Lily, and Harry go downstairs. Sarah unlocks the door and then Louis is in the house. 

Louis is in the house with Harry. And this is okay. It’s totally fine. He can do this. 

Louis looks at him, his expression startled. 

This is not okay. This is not fine. He cannot do this. 

“Your parents home?” Niall asks, waltzing into the living room and flopping on the couch. It’s familiar, practiced. 

Everyone follows him. Niall’s the kind of person you just want to follow for some reason. He has that air about him. 

Sarah huffs and sits on the couch next to him. “Would it matter if they were?” 

“Guess not at this point,” Niall laughs and wraps his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. Sarah leans into him, a reluctant smile on her face. 

Well, that’s new. Sarah never mentioned that there was anything between her and Niall, but he guesses the signs were there. She always had that look on her face when she’d talk about him over the past two weeks. 

“You guys are the worst,” Sarah says, but she’s still smiling. 

Everyone has taken spots on the couches and chairs in the room, so Harry walks over to the only empty chair. It’s next to where Niall is on the couch. He absolutely does not look at Louis across from him. 

“Oh, Harry. Didn’t know you were here,” Niall says and isn’t that just lovely. No one aside from Louis noticed him until now. It doesn’t really matter since Louis’s attention is the only attention he wants, but it’s the principle of the matter. 

“Yep,” Harry replies awkwardly, popping the ‘p.’ 

“Sorry about earlier man. I get a little wild when I’m buzzed,” Niall explains. 

Harry shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Why he’s sitting here letting himself feel small. There’s something on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say and goddammit he’s going to say it. Screw being nice and polite. It is not a nice and polite kind of day.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” He somehow manages to look right at Louis as he says it. He’ll admit he takes a little bit of pleasure in the way Louis’s cheeks turn red and he looks away from Harry. 

Yeah, he really is a coward. 

“Damn,” Liam whistles. “I like you, Harry.” 

Louis’s head whips to where Liam is sitting next to him. “Shut the fuck up, Liam,” he snaps. 

Apparently, Louis doesn’t take being embarrassed as well as Harry. Serves him right, Harry thinks. 

“Down, boy,” Liam laughs.

Louis still looks pissed off when he turns away. 

 

****

**Track: Brave // Riley Pearce**

Harry can’t sleep. He’s sweaty and uncomfortable and his mind won’t stop running. He tries shifting his position on the floor, but it doesn’t help. 

Not long after Louis’s little snap at Liam, they’d all agreed to go to sleep, feeling exhausted from the first day of school and the party. Louis’s eyes had lingered on Harry when he rose from the chair he’d been lounging in, but he never spoke. Harry pretended not to notice. He hoped maybe if he ignored him, he’d just go away. Like magic. 

Eventually, Harry gives up on trying to fall asleep. He throws off the fluffy pink blanket Sarah gave him and tiptoes out of the room. The stairs creak beneath his feet and he winces, trying to step a little lighter. 

He’s quiet as he walks through the living area to the kitchen, trying not to wake all of the sleeping boys.

The kitchen is huge and there’s two refrigerators and it takes Harry forever to find a glass for water. Once he does, he leans against the island in the middle of the room, taking slow sips. 

His wandering mind lands on Louis, because of course it does. It thinks about the fact that he’s just in the next room. The fact that Harry could just walk in there and curl up next to him, the way he did all summer. 

Then he’s harshly reminded of the fact that he’s actually not allowed to do that anymore. 

Louis isn’t his. He never was.

“Hey,” a familiar voice mumbles.

Well. So much for ignoring Louis. 

Harry takes a deep breath before looking at Louis. “Hey.” 

“What are you doing in here?” Louis asks. 

Harry looks at his glass and then back at Louis. “Drinking water?” 

Louis smiles tentatively. “Yes, smart-ass, I can see that. What I meant is what are you doing up so late?” 

God, Harry’s missed Louis teasing him. He’s missed the way it makes his stomach swirl and his heart beat just a little bit faster. He won’t be weak though. Louis still hasn’t apologized. Harry hasn’t forgotten that. “Couldn’t sleep. What are  _ you _ doing in here?” 

“Same. Saw the light on, figured I’d come see who was up. Insomnia’s much more tolerable with company,” Louis says. 

Harry lets himself dream that this moment is a month ago. That he could drag Louis into bed and cuddle him if he wanted to. 

But, it’s not and he can’t. “Sorry, don’t think I can help you there. Maybe wake up Niall. He seems like he’d be a good sport about it,” Harry says as he finishes his glass of water and places it in the sink. 

Without looking at Louis, he starts to walk out of the kitchen. 

“Harry, wait,” Louis says so quietly Harry almost doesn’t hear him. He stops though, giving Louis the moment he’s asking for because he’s not that strong. He can’t just walk away when Louis is asking him not to. 

“Yeah?” Harry hopes he doesn’t sound as stupidly hopeful as he feels. 

Louis looks like he’s about to say something, like he’s about to apologize. Something clouds over his face and he sighs. “Can you turn the light off?” 

Harry’s heart breaks for what must be the hundredth time today alone. He doesn’t let it show on his face, though. “Right.” 

He does as he’s asked. He turns the light off and plunges the kitchen into darkness, leaving his shattered heart on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! so that's that on that for part one! 
> 
> this is honestly one of the biggest challenges i've ever taken on. someone on twitter asked that i write this, and i took the plunge. this is definitely going to be one of the longest things i've ever written, and one of the most involved. 
> 
> i don't have a publishing schedule set up, as there's no way to be certain when things will be completed due to, y'know, life. however, you can bookmark this story or subscribe to it to make sure you don't miss when another part goes up. 
> 
> also, just a reminder that this is LOOSELY based off of the movie 'grease.' while there will be obvious plot similarities and nods to the movie, it isn't the same so things will be very different in a lot of ways. it's a 'grease' based alternate universe for a reason. 
> 
> next, a special thank you to all of my friends who support me through everything i do. and a super special thank you to bella (@stylesscreature), cass (@lwtbruises), lex (@harrysinceny), and yuktha (@pintswithlouis) for assisting me with this story when i needed help. i truly could not do this without you. 
> 
> finally, thank you to anyone who reads this. i never really expect anyone to read anything i write, so every time someone does, it's the best feeling in the world. i hope you enjoy reading this story as much as i've enjoyed writing it so far.


	3. part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! this has not been edited yet, so please excuse any typos.   
> also, sorry for the shortness in length, it's a filler chapter to get from one place to another so there wasn't much here! part three should be longer. 
> 
> remember that comments make my day!!

September turns into October and October fades to November. Harry spends most of that time studying, on the beach with the girls, or with the new boy he’s been seeing. The boy isn’t Louis, but Louis doesn’t seem to want to get his head out of his arse and well, Harry can’t wait forever. 

After the night of Niall’s party, he’s seen Louis quite a bit since they run in the same circles. They exchange awkward hellos or head nods of acknowledgement, but nothing further. Harry knows Louis looks at him longingly when he thinks Harry isn’t looking, but that’s no one’s fault but his own. 

The lads have made a few comments in passing, teasing Louis for his obvious desire for Harry. Most of the time, Harry pretends he doesn’t hear it. He’ll pretend to be looking at something interesting on his phone or listening to whatever the girls are talking about. Lying isn’t Harry’s strong suit, so he can’t deny that knowing Louis is still into him makes his belly feel warm. He’s only human. 

Tonight, Harry’s going on his third date with Xander, the boy he’s been seeing. He’s a nice enough lad, and Harry enjoys his company; but, he doesn’t make Harry feel anything of the things Louis did. There’s no accelerated heartbeat, no clammy palms, no phantom burn left on his skin whenever Xander’s fingers so much as brush against him. 

However, Xander’s on the school’s (American) football team, and he’s incredibly fit, so Harry’s not exactly complaining. He’s just not celebrating, either. 

He’s just slipping into his all-white Vans when there’s a knock on his door. It opens before he can say anything, revealing his older sister, Gemma. “You could knock,” he says. 

“I could,” she shrugs. “Where are you going?” 

Giving himself a once over in the mirror, Harry responds. “To the diner by the school with Xander.” 

Gemma steps up behind him, her reflection joining his in the floor-length mirror. Her dark hair is almost identical to his, except much longer. She reaches up to ruffle his own freshly cut hair. He decided yesterday that he needed a change and cut off his long tresses, hoping it would make him feel like a new person. (It didn’t). “You like him?” 

Harry shrugs, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting than his outfit. Gemma can always tell when he’s lying. 

“He’s nice,” Harry says. 

There’s a pinch on his arm and he looks up, meeting Gemma’s eyes in the mirror. “That’s not what I asked.” 

Harry takes one more look at himself: lavender sweater, blue jeans rolled up to his ankles, and white vans. Mentally, he gives himself a check of approval before stepping back from the mirror and out of Gemma’s range of reach. “I’m gonna be late, Gems.” 

There’s a queen-sized bed in the center of the far left wall, the duvet pink and the pillows white. Harry thinks pink is the most rock-n’-roll color there is. Gemma walks over to it and sits down, bouncing a little as she keeps her gaze on Harry. “I just worry about you,” she sighs. 

No matter how much she may annoy him at times, Harry truly does love his sister. “I know you do, but I promise it’s fine. We’ll talk later,” he reassures her. She looks skeptical, but nods in agreement anyway. Harry stops at his door to give her one last look. “ _ Don’t _ stay in my room. You have your own.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Gemma calls and he rolls his eyes as he exits the house. 

****

The Cool Cat Diner is surprisingly deserted for this time of night and Harry’s thankful because that means he gets to choose the music on the jukebox. He weaves through the red vinyl booths and sparkling silver table tops to get to the old machine by the bar. 

There’s only one person at the bar and Harry has to do a double-take, but it’s unmistakably Louis. He’s wearing tight black jeans and a white t-shirt with a wool-lined denim jacket. Harry’s mouth starts to water and he feels the familiar tug in his gut, the one he always gets whenever he’s around Louis. The one that begs him to just reach out and  _ touch.  _

Scolding himself, Harry focuses his attention on the jukebox, looking through the choices.  _ Bohemian Rhapsody, Bennie And The Jets, Rhiannon, Dancing In The Dark... _

Harry’s just narrowed his choices down to “Doing Alright” by Queen and “Talk To Me” by Stevie Nicks when he feels another presence next to him. He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Louis, so he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on the jukebox and pretends to still be contemplating his choices even though he’s really feeling like it’s a Stevie Nicks kind of night. 

“Hi, Harry,” Louis says. 

Sparing him a brief, (hopefully) indifferent glance, Harry responds with a little “oh, hi.” 

“How are you?” Louis asks. He sounds nervous and this is just weird. They’ve barely said more than a hundred words to each other over the past two months, and suddenly Louis is just striking up a conversation with him in the diner like they do this every day? 

“Fine, thanks,” Harry says. 

“Listen, Harry. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” 

**Track: Talk To Me // Stevie Nicks**

Now _ that  _ gets Harry’s attention. He presses the button for “Talk To Me” and turns to face Louis. He doesn’t miss the way Louis’s eyes rake his body. “What about?” 

Louis’s gaze settles on Harry’s hair. “You cut your hair.” 

“You wanted to talk to me about my _ hair?” _ Harry asks, incredulous. 

With a shake of his head, Louis seems to gather his wits again. “What? No, I just. I noticed it. It looks good. I like it.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Harry says pointedly, watching the way the name makes Louis wince. 

“I wanted to talk to you about that night at the party and y’know, the way I acted. That was terrible and I’m sorry. That-it, it wasn’t me. You have to know that. I mean it was me, but it wasn’t  _ me,” _   Louis babbles. 

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re apologizing  _ now?  _ It’s been two bloody months!” 

There’s sweat starting to bead on Louis’s forehead and he’s shifting on his feet nervously. Harry would feel bad for him if he didn’t deserve this so much. 

“It’s just, you see, I have this image--” Louis starts again, but Harry cuts him off with a scoff. 

“Trust me, I know all about your image. That’s why I’m glad Xander’s such a simple person who doesn’t care what other people think of him.” Harry sees Louis’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but then his gaze follows where Harry’s finger is pointed at Xander across the diner. Xander gives them an awkward little wave, seemingly confused. 

Louis laughs. “Xander Ritz? You’re kidding, right? His brains are in his biceps.” 

“And yours are in your dick.” Harry pauses for a moment, thinking Louis’s words over in his mind. “Wait, are you jealous, Louis?” Harry asks, a tiny smirk on his face. 

Louis splutters. “No, but he’s a stupid jock, Harry.” 

Harry knows he should end this conversation. He should get back to Xander and their date and stop feeding into whatever bullshit Louis is trying to pull. “And what have you ever done?” 

This gets Louis. Harry knows it does by the way he fishmouths and searches for words. Finally, he settles on, “Oh, come on. I could run circles around those jerks.” 

And Harry just. He honestly can’t believe it. He can’t believe that Louis is sitting here, apologizing after two months, and still being a complete dickhead. Harry wishes they were older. Wishes Louis was wiser. Wishes Louis would just grow the bloody hell up. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” 

Without allowing Louis to get another word in, Harry pivots on his feet and walks back to Xander. 

“What was that about?” Xander asks when Harry reaches the table. “Was Tomlinson bothering you?” 

Harry looks back to where he was just standing with Louis mere seconds ago, but the space is empty. Louis is gone. “No,” Harry frowns. “No, he was just-it doesn’t matter.” 

For the rest of the date, Harry tries to be interested. He laughs at all the right moments, but his eyes are dead. He asks the right questions, but his heart isn’t in it. All he can think about is Louis. 

**** 

The next time Harry sees Louis, it’s under much different, much  _ sweatier, _ circumstances. 

Apparently, Niall and the boys work on old cars, which explains Zayn’s Camaro. Sarah decided that she absolutely couldn’t wait to see Niall until tonight and that it was imperative that Harry come along with her. Harry didn’t know why he had to be there, but he agreed anyway. 

And if he was secretly hoping to see Louis, well, no one had to know. 

The shop the boys work out of is called Gypsy’s. It’s run by a short, spunky woman named Gypsy who apparently knows Zayn very well and allows him to use an empty stall in her shop. 

Harry dodges a puddle of what he assumes to be oil as he follows Sarah through the stalls, the sound of metal on metal grating his ears. When they get to the very end, it’s to find Zayn’s 1969 Camaro and a gaggle of extremely sweaty boys surrounding it. Even though it’s November, Harry guesses being under a car in a stuffy shop for hours will make you sweat like it’s the middle of July. 

Sarah spots Niall immediately where he’s leaning up against the hood, guzzling a bottle of water. She pats Harry on the arm before skipping over the brunette boy. Niall spots Harry and gives him a little wave, Harry smiling back and leaning up against one of the walls. 

Liam, Stan, and Zayn seem to be having a very serious conversation about something car related and Harry could probably join in, but he doesn’t have the energy to be social. He also doesn’t know how well he’d hide his disappointment at the lack of Louis. 

A door slams from somewhere behind the car, causing everyone to turn their heads and look. A sweaty Louis appears, brandishing what looks like a new headlight. “It’s here, boys. Gypsy just lost it in her office,” he says, mainly to Zayn. 

Zayn’s face lights up and he takes the item from Louis. “Sick! I knew it had to be here somewhere.” 

Harry’s eyes don’t leave Louis’s gloriously sweaty body. He’s wearing a pair of grey coveralls and he should look absolutely hideous, but Harry wants to devour him whole. Harry needs a distraction, anything to stop him from  _ staring. _ “What are you guys fixing her up for?” he asks before he even has a chance to stop himself. 

Louis’s head snaps toward him, along with everyone else in the stall. “Harry,” Louis says. 

Harry nods. “Louis.” 

“How’s Xander?” Louis all but sneers. 

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes. The truth is, Harry doesn’t even want to continue seeing Xander, doesn’t know if he will. But, Louis doesn’t need to know that. Harry rather likes seeing Louis jealous and antsy. “He’s quite alright, thanks for asking.” 

With her eyes quickly glancing back and forth between Louis and Harry, Sarah speaks up, “Thunder Road. That’s what we’re fixing her up for.” 

“What’s Thunder Road?” Harry asks with a confused tilt of his head. 

At Harry’s furrowed eyebrows, Niall places an arm around Sarah’s shoulders, continuing for her. “It’s just this old road down by the beach. We race there all the time, but there’s a big race every March, and this time it’s Zayn against Cal. So, it’s a pretty big deal.” 

Harry’s still confused. “Who’s Cal?” 

“Zayn’s arch nemesis,” Liam snickers. “He dated Dani first forever ago, like, sophomore year. But, aside from that, he really is just a dick. I’d like nothing more than to watch his sorry ass lose, especially after that shit he pulled with Louis last year.” 

Louis’s facial expression quickly turns from one of schooled indifference to mild panic. “Li, don’t.” 

There’s an odd surge of something in Harry’s chest. Something that feels oddly possessive, protective. “What’d he do last year?” Harry questions, ignoring the fact that Louis obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Liam looks away from Louis, focusing his attention on Harry. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he looks angry--not at Harry, but at whatever memory he’s recalling. “The fucking asshole took pictures of Louis in the locker room and sent them around to the whole school like we’re living in some kind of teen coming-of-age movie. Then, he spray-painted “fag” on his locker, called him all of these homophobic names in front of half the school. He should’ve been fucking expelled, but all he got was detention and a slap on the wrist.” 

White hot rage blooms in Harry’s stomach, the fire quickly crawling up to his chest, his throat. He doesn’t even notice that his fists are clenched until he feels Sarah gently loosening his fingers. “What the fuck, he can’t just  _ do _ that. The school can’t do that. Someone has to do something-” 

“Harry,” Louis says, and his voice sounds so incredibly small that it makes Harry stop talking. “It’s in the past, alright? The statute of limitations or whatever is up. I’m sure that’s not what it’s called, but you get what I’m saying. Even if they wanted to, the school can’t do anything now. It was a year ago and he was already punished. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay, Louis. How can you say that?” Harry takes a step forward, reaching out for Louis. He stops when he’s halfway there, though, and forces himself to lower his hand back to his side. Louis may have been an asshole to Harry, but no one deserves to be humiliated simply for being who they are. 

A wry smile twists on Louis’s lips and his eyes are sad. “I’m used to it. I’ve been dealing with shit like this since middle school. I’d rather put my energy into other things.” 

Harry’s heart shatters. “Fuck that,” he mutters. 

Sarah’s suddenly next to Harry again, tugging on his arm. “We’re gonna go now. We’ve got a project to work on. We were just stopping by to say hello.” 

“I hope you beat his arse in this race,” Harry says to Zayn. 

Zayn grins. “That’s the plan, bro. That’s the plan.” 

When Harry leaves, it’s with a great deal of reluctance and desperate glances over his shoulder at the boy with summer in his heart and sadness in his eyes. 

**** 

Homework is Harry’s least favorite activity, but it’s made better when he can sit on the bleachers and watch boys in tight pants as they work out on the field. 

The sun is shining bright in his eyes, and he’s trying to combat it with the use of his black sunnies, but they aren’t doing much. He huffs out a sigh, pushing his notebook to the side and taking a deep breath. 

He’s been particularly moody ever since he visited Gypsy’s with Sarah. He hates that he wants to protect Louis, comfort him, and  be there for him when Louis obviously doesn’t feel the same. And even if he did feel the same, he’s more concerned with his “image” than Harry.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, opening a text from Gemma.

**Gemma:** Where are you? 

**Harry:** At school still. Doing homework. 

**Gemma:** Mum wants to know if you’ll be eating with us tonight. 

**Harry:** As far as I know xx 

After pocketing his phone, he looks back out at the field. A lot of the boys have cleared off now, going back to the locker rooms to shower and change. There are still a few stragglers though, and one in particular that catches Harry’s eye because he looks a suspicious amount like Louis. 

**Track: Faith // George Michael**

Harry squints at the figure that’s clad in trainers, grey joggers and a Rydell jumper. It’s definitely Louis, but  _ why? _ Louis doesn’t play any sports. 

Coach Calhoun is approaching Louis now, shaking his head and pointing toward the hurdles on the dirt that surrounds the outside of the track Harry is sitting in front of. They exchange a few words, Louis with his hands on his hips and head hung low as he nods along to whatever the coach is saying. 

The grey joggers Louis is wearing are doing wonders for his already magnificent bum, and Harry’s not shy about staring at it. He misses when he was allowed to grab it while they were kissing. Misses the little surprised and delighted sounds Louis would make every time he did. 

Coach Calhoun and Louis walk over to the hurdles and Harry watches as Louis takes an extremely deep breath, his chest heaving. Louis wipes a hand across his forehead, doing his best to remove the sweat that’s gathered on his forehead. 

Harry really wishes he’d stop being put in positions with a sweaty Louis. It’s bad for his health. 

Just as Harry places a hand up to his brow, over his eyes to block out the sunlight, Louis choose to lift up the bottom of his jumper to wipe away the sweat because apparently his hand wasn’t good enough. 

And Harry’s not drooling. He’s  _ not. _ He just has very overactive salivary glands, thank you very much. 

What he is doing though, is being extremely curious as to what the hell Louis is doing. The smaller boy has now stalked away from Coach Calhoun to stand in front of the line of hurdles, with just enough room to gain momentum from a run and-

Oh, no. 

Harry brings the hand that’s not shielding the sunlight to his mouth, covering it so he doesn’t catch any flies. He watches in horror in confusion as Louis takes off at a run, his body hurtling forward. Louis is flying off of the ground soon enough, just barely making it over the first hurdle before it’s time to jump the second one. 

Which, he jumps it, but his feet get caught on the edge and it sends him crashing into the next hurdle and to the ground. A plume of dirt billows around him and Harry jumps to his feet. 

Before he knows it, Harry is abandoning his homework and tripping down the bleachers to get to the fence. “Louis!” he calls, breaking into a jog once he hits the ground. 

Louis stands up from the ground, spluttering and spitting out chunks of dirt. His grey clothing is now more of a mixture of browns and his hair is covered in a dusty layer of dirt. 

Harry slips through the little side gate, trying to stifle his laughter now that he knows Louis is okay. “Are you okay?” he asks anyway, the edges of his mouth curling up into a smile. 

After assessing the damage, Louis looks at Harry, dead serious, and says, “Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally, I’m bruised.” 

A honk of a laugh leaves Harry’s mouth and he claps his hand over it, embarrassed. “What the hell are you even doing out here? Running of all things?” 

Dragging a hand down his face, Louis sighs. “Well, you said I’ve never done anything and you were right. I was trying to impress you, I guess.” 

Harry’s heart flutters. “I can’t believe you just literally ate dirt trying to impress me, you absolute tit.” 

When Louis grins, his white teeth are a stark contrast to his dirt-caked skin. “Did it work?” 

“Hardly,” Harry snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Was a good laugh, though.” 

“So, is Xander taking you to the winter dance?” Louis asks, toeing at the ground. 

If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say Louis is nervous. “That all depends,” Harry replies with a tilt of his head. 

Louis looks at Harry, his blue eyes as beautiful as ever. “On what?” 

“Whether or not you ask me first,” Harry shrugs. 

The grin that takes over Louis’s face is breathtaking and Harry finds himself forgetting to breathe momentarily, lost in the way the sun seems to radiate from Louis’s smile. “Really?” 

Harry’s heart flutters and it’s ridiculous. The entire situation is ridiculous. Here Louis is covered in dirt, and here Harry is smiling like an idiot and prepared to forgive Louis despite everything he’s done all because he tripped over a hurdle trying to impress Harry. Harry can hear his mum’s voice in his head asking him if he’s turned into a nutter, but he waves her off. 

“I’m not going to wait around all day,” Harry says, sighing in mock annoyance and placing his hands on his hips. 

“Then I better hurry up.” Louis brushes the dirt off of his pants the best he can before standing up straight and puffing his chest out. He clears his throat and lowers his voice a few octaves. “Dearest Harold, would you be so kind as to do me the honor of accompanying me to the winter dance?” 

Harry’s reduced to a fit of giggles, but he manages to nod out a yes, throwing himself into Louis’s arms, dirt be damned. And he’s finally happy, is the thing. Sure, Xander was nice. But Louis. Louis gives Harry this _ feeling _ . Louis’s arms around Harry feel right, they feel like home. 

“That’s a yes, right?” Louis asks through a laugh of his own, tightening his grip around Harry. 

“Yes, even though you don’t deserve it,” Harry says, falling back onto his feet. 

“I know I don’t, but thank you for giving me the chance,” Louis responds. 

Harry takes his hand. “Don’t mess it up.” 

Louis gives Harry's hand a light squeeze, making Harry's stomach do somersaults and backflips. "Wanna grab a bite to eat?" 

"Only if you change your clothes first." 

 


End file.
